


Caper On The Coast

by nuclearwinter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Bondage, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Double Crossing, Dubious Consent Turned Enthusiastic, Exhbitionistic Flirting, Historical Inaccuracy, Implied/Referenced Incest, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 06:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19351324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearwinter/pseuds/nuclearwinter
Summary: A band of dastardly pirates kidnap a prince for ransom...





	Caper On The Coast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GloamingMage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloamingMage/gifts).



> Yo ho yo ho this is not historically accurate

They _chafe,_ " the Troll prince reiterates, rattling the iron chains on his wrists. There's another pair shackling his ankles to the hull of the ship. He sits on the floor with the chains pooling between his legs, looking miserable despite all Jake's done so far to keep him comfortable.

"Yes well, you've proved yourself a wily thing!" Jake reminds him. "You bit clean through the ropes. Can't have that, now!"

"You won't get your ransom if I'm damaged," he counters, flopping onto the slightly mildewed velvet cushions Jake had rustled up.

"Chin up, prince! You'll be back home before you know it."

"Course I will," he spits, "and all a your heads will be on pikes in the town plaza before _you_ know it."

"Oh, I've still got plenty of vim and vigour left in me yet," Jake grins. The Troll prince's grey countenance turns a delicate shade of lavender at that, but before Jake can think too hard about it the door opens and his captain walks through.

The infamous master of the whip-fast schooner Fruity Rumpus, heir to all the sea winds.

John throws his hat down on his bed. These are his quarters—the nicest part of the ship, the only part fit to hold a prince.

"Is Prince Eridan behaving?" John asks, coming over to lean an elbow on Jake's shoulder. The prince gives them a venomous little look before staring resolutely to the side instead.

"Mostly," Jake says, and takes the opportunity to sneak his hand around John's waist. It is what he would usually do alone with John in his cabin, after all!

"Do I need to ask _you_ to behave now?" John laughs.

Jake winks. "Me? Why, I'm a rascally pirate, I never behave."

John leans in and gives Jake a quick peck on the mouth. Like every time, Jake feels warm bright sunshine start to bubble up in his chest, and perhaps some of it shows on his face, because John's eyes go tender and he kisses him again.

Then John breaks away, and Jake follows his gaze to—the Troll prince, watching them in rapt attention. His yellow eyes widen when he realises he's been caught.

"What, you found some sense a decency now?" he snaps. Oh dear, Jake hopes they haven't made him uncomfortable. Jake may be a dastardly scoundrel, but he's not _that_ kind of dastardly scoundrel.

John gives the squirmy Troll on the floor a considering look. Then he smiles, one of those rakish toothy grins that Jake knows usually comes before a particularly inspired scheme.

"I think we've been super decent to you," John says, hand on his hip. "Sharing my quarters with you, feeding you the best we have to offer. What are you missing huh, entertainment?" He sits on his bed, suddenly, and beckons Jake over. Jake shoots a look over his shoulder, and sees the Troll prince starting to turn violet again. "Come on, Jake, let's show him how we pirates entertain ourselves."

"Knock yourselves out," splutters Eridan. "I mean, if you filthy apes just can't help your—"

" _And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys,_ " John belts. Oh, of course! Entertainment! Jake begins to stomp his foot in time.

 _"When the wind blows, we're all together, boys,"_ he joins in, drowning out the sound of Eridan groaning.

⚓

Jake considers the delicate embroidery on Eridan's shirt in the dim light of dusk as he unpegs it, taking the laundry in for the evening. He and John were young when they ran away to sea, but they weren't born into the life. Once upon a time, Jake had been something approaching nobility himself.

He unpegs a dainty violet handkerchief and thinks about his failed betrothal, the fear and darkness that had clouded his life in those days. Thinks about the breath of air that was John, fearless and carefree, dragging him up and out into the sun and sea.

And to—

"What are you washing his delicates for," comes a dry voice from over the railing.

"You're back!" Jake springs over. Squinting in the dying light, he can just make out Dave, balanced standing on an unfamiliar rowboat. He leans down as far as he can and lends Dave a hand to catch, helps hoist him up. Their crewmates—all Salamanders, on this voyage—come crowding over to help deal with the supplies Dave has brought back.

Jake leaves them to it, throwing an arm around Dave's shoulder and patting him heartily. "You're a sight for sore eyes. We were starting to think perhaps you'd gotten into a spot of trouble!"

  

"Yeah, sorry it took so long. The imperial dogs were pretty hard to dodge this time. They must be really riled up about us poaching Princey."

"Speaking of Princey…"

"Yeah," says Dave," I got the letter. Haven't opened it yet, though. Thought the Captain could do that honour."

"Is that Dave??" John shouts from below the open hatch.

They hurry down out of the cooling evening air and into John's cabin, where the oil lamps are already aglow. John embraces Dave and they fall into chatter about the trip, but Jake's attention keeps wandering to the surly Troll lounging on the velvet cushions in nothing but breeches. The warm lamplight highlights the strange planes of his body, and it takes entirely too long for Jake to realise his staring has been noticed by the object of his gaze. He flushes and looks away quickly, trying to re-focus on the conversation beside him.

"So they've agreed to do the handover at Horrorterror Cove, just like we asked," John says, scanning the letter.

"Horrorterror Cove!?" Eridan shouts, shooting up straight.

"Oh no, it's actually very lovely," Jake reassures him. "It's got a stunning lagoon. You'll enjoy it."

"Oh yeah, enjoy bein kidnapped by pirates an marooned somewhere they call 'Horrorterror Cove,' sure."

"We're not marooning you," Dave adds, flopping onto John's bed face down. Jake knows immediately what he wants, and moves over wordlessly to straddle his hips and start working on the tense knots of his shoulders. Dave flinches reflexively, like he always does, before melting into Jake's enthusiastic touch. "We're gonna be right there with you, so we can get the gold. Ohhh yeah, yes. Little lower."

It's Eridan's turn to not know where to look, apparently. Does he want a massage too, perhaps?

"Your stupidity is our boon," Eridan says. "You really think they're gonna just let you waltz off with the gold? After what you done?"

"Yeah," says John.

Eridan flops back onto the cushions with a frustrated hiss.

John sits down by Dave's head, scratches fingers through his hair. "Good job out there," he says. "Glad you made it back in one piece. Dunno what I'd do without my first mate."

Dave is a puddle, and puddles don't talk, but Jake is sure neither he nor John need a reply.

"Get a pile," Eridan mutters, and John throws another pillow at him.

They'd met Dave on the sea. He was a runaway too, from something he never talked about, although Jake had some guesses. Jake knows he was the one who had inspired John to run, but it was Dave who had inspired John to become a captain.

He remembers it now: it had been a lot like this, all three of them in a pile of limbs. Although, they had been thinner, and hungrier, and there had been less clothes and also less staring Troll princes. They'd traced the scars on Dave's back, and John's eyes had flashed. This world is one of dog eat dog, John knew it as well as Jake. The thing John had that Jake admired was that he could always rise above it. John showed them over and over how to run, and in that constant stream of motion Jake saw the buried embers in Dave flicker to life.

⚓

Jake wakes up, warm and comfortable with an arm around his waist. For a moment he tries to sink back into sleep, until his brain tunes into what had awakened him.

There's a low voice, and the steady scritching of a quill. Jake's glasses are somewhere across the room, but he can imagine the scene before him: Dave spread out on the floor, etching another rip-roaring caricature by the light of a candle, the night-creature Eridan awake and animated.

"Hang on," Dave is murmuring. "But why doesn't your pops think you can be admiral of the fleet?"

"He didn't say it to my face, so I can only guess. There's rumours, for one. A captain in the know told me the current vice admiral, Lady Serket, is so ruthless she's a shoe-in for the job. I dunno why dad likes her better than me. I can be ruthless."

"I guess. You blasted us pretty good before we managed to catch you."

"Well naturally. This ship may be lightweight, but remember on account a the—"

The rhythmic scratching and low mumbling and the swell of the sea begin to lull Jake to sleep once more.

⚓

"I see him," says John, spyglass trained on the open sea outside the lagoon. The stately Royal Navy vessel is planted just outside the lagoon, cannons shining above the waves. And then Jake sees him too: a lone man is rowing across the bright blue of the shallow lagoon, his high sharp hat signifying his status. The captain himself. Jake feels Dave go tense by his side.

On John's signal, they make their way back down the rocks and across jungle, through the back of a half-ruined house, the ancient wood bleached pale. Eridan is where they left him, hands and feet bound. He's looking out through the glassless window, watching the navy captain make his way across the white sands towards them.

"You're going to die here," says Eridan, but for once there's no venom in his voice. "You do know who they've sent? Ain't a colder bastard on the sea. Tactician that could rival even me. You reckon he's playin' by your rules?" Eridan's voice is getting higher, a strangely devastating mix of smugness and panic. "You're all goin' ta lose your heads."

"Blah-blah," John says, sounding a little peeved. He lounges against the wall, swinging his wheelock axe idly. "You really have that little faith in me?"

The sound of boots squeaking in powder-fine sand gets louder, and before Jake can grab him, Dave is flying to the ruined doorway, planting himself between them and the man outside, cutlass at his hip glinting in the last of the fading sun.

The footsteps outside break into a run. Eridan launches himself to his knees, chest puffing up to shout, and Jake is torn in a moment of hesitation—

Dave has no such issues. He throws himself at the other captain, sweeps off his hat, and drags him into a kiss. "Dirk," gasps Dave, as they break apart.

Eridan is stunned silent, mouth falling open.

Jake is already halfway across the room. He steals a kiss from Dirk for himself, picks him up by the waist and spins him around. "You pulled it off, you wily dog!"

"Hi," replies Captain Dirk Strider of the Royal Navy, darling of the royal family, and the longtime lover of Jake, John and Dave.

"Did you bring the gold?" John says, putting his wheelock axe against the wall and spreading his hands.

"It's been what, six months, and that's the first thing you ask me? Perhaps the gold was a metaphor. Perhaps the gold is my love for you."

"Love's not going to pay for my repairs. Prince toothy over there did a number on us. He wasn't as easy to capture as you made it sound."

"What!" Eridan has found his voice. "You told them what!"

"Pretty much what I told you," says Dirk, wiggling out of Jake's grip to saunter over to John. "Here's a tasty target, if you capture it, you might net some extra sugar from Daddy."

"You're not my daddy, you loser," says John, before giving Dirk his own greeting kiss.

Eridan thumps his iron-bound fists against the floorboards. "This is… treason!"

"But is it, really?" Dirk says, starting on the buttons of his jacket. "Honestly, I see it this way: I arranged for you to take a private cruise, being waited on by three gorgeous young human men. And now you get to chill at a pristine lagoon for a while, all while the proceeds go to the less fortunate. In a way, this is simply humanitarianism."

"And what do you get outta all this, the most convoluted booty call in history?"

"Pretty much," says Dirk. John rolls his eyes.

"How is this my life," Eridan moans. "What, are you just going to chain me up outside in the sun while you all fuck like degenerates?"

"Well," says Jake," you don't have to go outside."

John starts guffawing. "And here I was thinking you were oblivious!"

"To what?" Dirk has his complicated jacket off now, and he dumps it carelessly on a crate. John slaps his hands away and gets onto the ridiculous row of buttons on his undershirt.

"Oh, Eridan's been sizing us up like the juiciest bug steak the entire voyage."

Eridan makes an offended noise. "Like you haven't been sizin' me up right back!"  
  
"Did you think your virtue was in danger?" Dave asks.

"Maybe he hoped it was," John teases.

"And it could be yet!" Jake says. John has finally managed to divest Dirk of his shirt, and the sight of his familiar body has Jake's mouth going dry. He clears his throat. "What say you, Dirk?"

"I'm down with it if he is. It'd be nice to have someone to confide in, who might miss you guys like I do."

"You sap," says Dave, looking like he's had enough of letting the others have their turns. The two of them have as much history as Jake and John, and Jake thinks of all the nights Dave has spent in the crows nest gazing to the horizon these past six months. Dirk notices him hovering and drags him in, popping all the buttons on his age-soft shirt open in one steady pull.

Jake squats by Eridan, even though he'd much rather be watching. "Will you miss us? I shall rather miss you."

Eridan's flush goes all the way down his neck, but his jaw is set. "Dunno. Better give me somethin' to miss."

"That I can do," he grins, spurred on by John whooping in the background, and captures the prince's mouth in a kiss. He's cool to the touch, and his mouth is colder, but there's nothing frigid about the way he surges forward.

But then Dave makes a very interesting noise, and he can't help but break away to look. Dirk has him spread out in the puddle of all their clothes, and is kissing steadily down his chest. John's kneeling by them, a hand on Dirk's back, beginning to touch himself. It's a gorgeous scene, and Jake is thoroughly distracted.

Eridan moans in frustration, flopping back down against the floor. "Could you at least get these chains off? I'm dyin' over here."

"I like them better on," John says, suddenly, looking over. Eridan moans again. "Jake, why not show him how fun chains can be?"

"Aye aye, captain!" Jake calls, cheerfully, and rolls Eridan onto his stomach.

"Wait," Dirk says, lifting his face from Dave's lap. "I want to see this."

"Hey," Dave whines," can you suck my dick and look at the same time, though? We are in the middle of something here."

"I can try," Dirk muses, apparently ntly already trying to plan the logistics, and Jake tunes out.

It's impossible to get the prince naked with his limbs bound as they are, and they can't very well deliver him back to the Royal Navy with his clothes all sliced up. He pushes Eridan's shirts up, revealing a long smooth stretch of grey skin, until they wad up around his arms. Then he begins on his breeches.

Eridan is breathing hard, the naked gills on his torso fluttering. Jake would be intrigued by them, but he's just exposed something even more attention grabbing: bright violet peeks from the apex of Eridan's thighs.

"You lovely thing," he sighs, sliding his fingers between those tightly trapped legs. Eridan lets out a desperate noise face down on the floor. It's cold here too, but gorgeously slick. Jake hasn't made love to a Troll before, but he has heard the bawdy songs, and he knows what to expect.

Dirk shuffles over on his knees, wiping fluids from his chin. Behind him, John is falling onto Dave.

"Looking pretty undignified there, your highness," he says, carefully laying a hand on the small of his back, just above the swell of his ass. "You having fun, getting ravished by a pirate?"

"He's not ravishin' me at all," Eridan moans. "Fuckin'... put it in already."

"You heard him," says Dirk, and Jake can't help but lean over and kiss him, lick some of Dave's mess from his face.

"Oh, how I've missed you and your spicy directions."

"More like spicy dictatorship," John says. He and Dave are making their way over too now, loose and sated.

"Already?" he says, finding where Eridan's body gives. Two fingers slip right in, and he marvels at the softness inside.

"That was just to take the edge off," says Dave, putting a hand in Eridan's hair and feeling for the base of a bright horn. "Not like we've been able to get any special time in for a while."

Eridan is moaning steadily now, his insides squeezing at Jake's fingers. Something seems to swell up under his fingers, and then there's a splatter against the floorboards.

"Oh look," John says, reaching under, and then Eridan's hips are squirming hard.

"Careful, you clumsy ape," he bites out shivering all over. Jake looks and sees John's fingers tangling with a lurid violet bulge, messy and wet.

It must surely be time for the ravishing. Jake unbuckles his pants and slicks himself up with the purple-tinged slick coating his hand. It's thick and slippery and perfect, and he tells Eridan so as he guides his cock inside.

Dirk rubs at the goosebumps that raise all over Jake's skin. It's such a strange sensation, sliding into something so cold on his overheated flesh. Dave leans over to kiss his mouth, then he loses Dave to Dirk, and then John's behind him, pressing them all together, guiding his pace.

John's breath heavy in his ear as his hips grind against his ass, and Dave's thigh bumping his rhythmically from the side, Dirk's rare sounds getting higher and Jake loses track of all the threads, loses his mind, senses blurring together as he comes deep in Eridan.

He's jolted to his senses when icy fluid gushes over his lap, flooding down and nearly gumming his knees to the floor. Dave grunts in shock as it seeps under his ass, and Eridan starts swearing.

"That was super hot," says John, "but I'm glad we didn't do this in my cabin after all. I had no idea Trolls were so messy!"

"We're not!" gasps Eridan, managing to wrench his upper half around to glare at John over Jake's shoulder. "We usually use pails, you're just a bunch a filthy heathens."

"And you love it, your highness," says Dirk, leaning over Dave to press a light kiss to Eridan's violet cheek. "Now, I don't mean to rush things, but we don't have infinite time here. Round two?"

⚓

Eridan waves from the rowboat as Dirk steers them out of the lagoon. Jake waves back, delighted.

"You do suppose we'll see him again?" he says, wistfully.

"Honestly," says Dave, "we'll probably see him, and Dirk, way more. Easier to get what you want with the power of royal decree."

They pick their way across the rocks and the jungle, to the massive secret cave where they have hidden the Fruity Rumpus. When night falls, they'll steal away, but for now they have time for a well earned nap.

 


End file.
